They Say It's Wonderful
by theromangoddess
Summary: Minerva becomes Nicholas Flammel's apprentice and meets Albus through the Flammels. Based on a challenge from the proboards site. Inspired by the song "They Say It's Wonderful" from Annie Get Your Gun.
1. Chapter 1

_**They Say it's Wonderful**_

Rated T

A/N: This fic was inspired by a challenge on proboards to write an ADMM fic in which Albus and Minerva are introduced by the Flammels while Minerva is Nicholas' apprentice. I have decided to take up the mantel. The title and story are inspired by the song "They Say it's Wonderful" from Annie Get Your Gun.

In this story, Albus has been out of school for about 20 years, and Minerva has been out of school for almost 5 years. Albus has never taught Minerva, and does not know her. Please remember that he's still young and arrogant at this point.

Chapter 1: An Apprentice

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, it was October, the school year was well underway and the preparations for Halloween were almost in order, he tapped his quill against his inkwell and set about the task of answering his correspondence. Picking up a letter from the pile, Albus immediately recognized the handwriting of his old friend, Nicholas Flammel. Sighing Albus threw the letter into the wastepaper basket. Ordinarily Albus loved to receive letters from Nicholas, but of late, Nicholas's letters had all centered around one subject, a subject in which Albus had no interest, Nicholas's new apprentice, Minerva McGonagall.

Nick had taken many apprentices over the years. Albus had been one of them, that was how they had met. The Flammels had pulled him back to reality after the dissolution of his friendship with Grindenwald and the death of his sister, Ariana, and Albus had always treasured his time with them, but since the start of term they only seemed to be able to talk about their new protégé, Miss McGonagall. It was tiresome!

Nicholas had rushed into Albus's office in early September, begging him to come to dinner to meet the wonderful Miss McGonagall, and Albus had declined. Nicholas was too enthusiastic and too gullible. Albus was certain that this McGonagall could never be as wonderful as Nicholas made her out to be, Nicholas had even claimed that she was a better student than Albus himself. As if that were actually possible! Albus was certain that Pernelle had set Nicholas to the task and that the dinner was a set up. Albus had no interest in meeting anyone…no interest in women. He'd always longed for an equal, someone who could match wits with him, someone who shared his dreams and ambitions, and women, even the best of women were inferior by nature.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Transfiguration Today

Albus smiled, settling himself into his squashy armchair by the fire and sipping a snifter of brandy. It was going to be an excellent night! Sighing as he leaned back, Albus set down his brandy and picked up the latest copy of Transfiguration Today. Reading the magazine was one of Albus's favorite professional obligations. He often found that he argued with almost every single article in the newspaper and he enjoyed writing rebuttals and editorials. Unfortunately most of the people who wrote for that magazine were too plebian to be able to understand his genius, but, nonetheless, he was one of the most respected specialists in Transfiguration in the world, he was the Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts and he had achieved the highest scores in Hogwarts history on his Transfiguration OWLS and NEWTS.

The hours ticked by as Albus read article after article, taking careful notes on the inaccuracies of each. It was nearing midnight, when Albus came across an article on the long-term psychological and physiological effects of the animagus tranformation. The article was exceptionally well-researched and written. It was incredible actually! Albus grinned as he put down the magazine, leaning back in his chair. He had to hand it to that wizard, he had an incredible talent.! Picking up the magazine, Albus's eyes scanned the page for the author's name.

Suddenly Albus's blue eyes bugged out, his breathing became ragged as he turned the magazine over and over again. This had to be wrong! Surely this article was not written by a…by a….a woman. They didn't even publish women in Transfiguration Today. It was a wizard's journal. Transfiguration was a gentleman's art. It was too difficult, too dangerous for a witch. Minerva McGonagall had written the article, Minerva McGonagall the transfiguration prodigy, Nicholas' apprentice.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Bested!

Still stunned and a bit bruised by the Transfiguration Today debacle, Albus was eager to find out all he could about this Miss McGonagall. The Flammels barely even knew her and they had let her into their inner circle, he was determined to find out all he could, determined to discredit her, to prove that she wasn't as perfect as she seemed.

Albus had already sent a letter to Alastor Moody, an auror, and one of the most paranoid people Albus had ever met, asking for background information. He was still, however, waiting for a response from Alastor. Albus had assumed that Minerva had attended Hogwarts before his own tenure there as a teacher, so he was intending to ask Armando and Horace about her that very morning at breakfast.

Albus smiled as he slid into his chair at the head table.

"Good Morning, Albus, my boy!" Armando said, clapping Albus on the shoulder cheerfully. Armando was a fairly short man, balding, with scattered patches of short bristly grey hair. He wore a navy blue pinstriped muggle suit, with a baby blue tie, and a watch fob. Before Armando's tenure as Headmaster he had served the school as the Muggle Studies professor, a post he had cherished, as he was obsessed with all things muggle.

"Morning, Armando." Albus said with a grin. "Have you read the latest edition of Transfiguration Today?" Putting a liberal amount of jam on his toast, Albus waited for Armando's response.

"Yes, I have. I must say that most of the articles were uninspired, but I was impressed with one or two…" Armando said with a wink.

Trying to keep his voice level, and sound casual, Albus said, "Miss McGonagall's?"

Armando's smile very nearly split his face in half. "I didn't know that you knew Minerva!"

Holding up his hands, Albus cut Armando off, "I don't. Only by reputation…" He amended, encouraging Armando to continue the conversation.

"Miss McGonagall was one of the greatest students in Hogwarts history, and I daresay she's the most powerful, intelligent witch I have ever had the privilege to know. "

Great! Albus thought sarcastically…"She's apprenticing with my old friend Nicholas Flammel. He's had wonderful things to say about her." Albus said, trying to convince his smile to reach his eyes.

"Minerva's wonderful. She graduated at the top of her class, Prefect, Head Girl. She spent six years as a chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team…" Armando chuckled, drifting off into thought. "I'm sure that you've heard about her performance on her OWLS. Only student in school history to outdo your near perfect score in Transfiguration."

"What?" Albus said, nearly choking on his toast.

"Yep…" Armando said, nodding his head, as Albus gasped for air, trying to clear his throat next to him. "Horace, can you come here for a moment?"

Within a moment, the unctuous potions professor had appeared next to Armando. "Horace," Armando began with a smile, "Do you remember Minerva McGonagall?"

Horace grinned from ear to ear. "Miss McGonagall! What a student! Head Girl, Quidditch star. Received Os in all of her classes and took nearly double the amount of allotted classes. She's sure to go places. I actually just finished her article for Transfiguration Today, first witch published in that misogynistic rag…quite good work."

Armando nodded in agreement. "Albus here, seems unable to fathom the fact that she beat his score…" Armando said with a deep chuckle.

Horace chuckled in response, "Which one? His OWLS score or his NEWTS?"

Albus, who had begun to look a bit green around the gills, pushed himself away from the table, downed his pumpkin juice and excused himself, beating a hasty retreat to his office.

Once in the safety of his own office, Albus poured himself a Firewhiskey, knowing that he needed something a bit stronger than his usual Brandy.

She couldn't be that perfect! Albus assured himself. No one is THAT perfect!

Suddenly there was a rapping at the window, and Albus was startled from his reverie by a large eagle owl. Albus rushed to the window, grateful for the interruption, he ushered the owl inside and offered it a lemon drop, as he hastily opened the letter from Alastor.

Albus,

I went to school with Minerva's elder brother, Mercury. I know the family well. The McGonagalls were once a wealthy, well-respected, society family. Minerva and her brothers were born in Scotland to Malcom McGonagall a wealthy Scotsman, with an interest in ancient runes and Diana McGonagall nee D'Avignon, a Frenchwoman from the Rhone valley. Diana was the daughter of D'Artagnan D'Avignon the French Minister for Magic.

The McGonagalls had three children. Mercury is the eldest. He seems to be academically inclined like his father, as he is currently one of the world's foremost experts on arithmancy. He lives with his wife Ingrid in Germany. 3 years after Mercury's birth the McGonagalls had a set of twins: Minerva and Mars. Mars and Minerva were three years behind me in school. Minerva was always the picture of calm, a wonderful student, Head Girl, Prefect, Quidditch Star, highest scores in school history on her OWLS and NEWTS. Mars was the exact opposite. He was a prankster and barely passed his classes. Mars is currently unmarried and working alongside me in the Ministry as an auror.

Sadly, when Mars and Minerva were around ten, their father was found dead on an archaeological expedition, he was crushed by the collapse of a roof in a temple he was visiting. Diana moved out of their ancestral home, McGonagall Manor and moved to France where she later married Vespasian Vesper, with whom she has a daughter, Venus. Venus is Minerva's half-sister, and is as unlike Minerva as night is to day.

After her father's death Minerva rallied the troops and organized it so that she and her brothers would not have to move to France with their mother. The kids wanted to stay at Hogwarts, so they moved in with their grandparents, Malcom's parents, William and Vivian.

After graduating first in her class from Hogwarts, Minerva decided to become an auror, and passed her training in an unprecedented year and a half. She served as an auror for nearly two years, before deciding to leave the Ministry, because, as she said at the time "Two McGonagalls in the Ministry is one too many." Her brother had just passed his final exam, and, lest her twin should have to live in her shadow yet again, Minerva stepped back.

After that time, Minerva enrolled in the prestigious Academie de la Metamorphosis in Paris and reconnected with her mother and half-sister. She's been studying there for the last two years, and is now working on her Mastery with Nicholas Flammel.

I don't know what you're looking for Albus, but I hope this helps. Minerva is a wonderful witch and a great friend!

Constant Vigilance!

Alastor

"Damn!" Albus swore loudly, dropping the letter onto his desk. Everyone seemed to love this girl. Even Alastor!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Again, because apparently it bears repeating. I do not believe that Dumbledore is gay and I refuse to write him as gay simply because Rowling said he was…after she finished writing the books. I am a grad student who focuses her studies on literary criticism, and I prefer to base my readings on the primary texts. If Rowling had wanted Dumbledore to be gay, she should have written him that way! Out of respect for the story that Rowling weaved in Book 7, I did write Dumbledore as a bit of a misogynist whose main desire is to find someone who is his intellectual equal. He thought that the had with Gellert, but then he discovered that Grindenwald was too corrupt and dangerous for him, especially after the death of Arianna. In the very first chapter Dumbledore even says that he has no interest in women…but Minerva's not just any woman, and Dumbledore is a bit thrown off by her.

Chapter 4: Bested Again!

It was a bright, sunny day; from inside the castle it almost looked as if it could be summer, almost, if one failed to notice the bare branches and the hoards of brown leaves littering the ground. It was early November and the air was brisk, a sharp, cool breeze flitted through the air, making Dumbledore's robes billow around him as he walked briskly toward Hogsmeade.

Dumbledore whistled as he walked, the wind tingeing his cheeks a bright rose, contrasting greatly with his auburn hair and his rather garish purple robes. Albus was rather excited, he had ordered a book from Fourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley, and it was supposed to be delivered to Barnaby's Books in Hogsmeade that afternoon.

Albus had had his eye on this particular book for quite awhile, but it was a bit difficult to find, as it was a muggle book from the early seventeen hundreds. The book in question was a tactical book, a manuscript detailing a master's most successful chess moves. Albus had wanted this book for years, but despite the fact that evey birthday, every Christmas he received dozens and dozens of books, no one ever sent him chess books, and next to chamber music and ten pin bowling, chess was one of his great passions in life.

With a bounce in his step, despite the cold weather and the blustery wind, Albus walked into the warmth of Barnaby's Books. The scent of leather, dust and mould assaulted his senses, wrapping him up like a warm blanket and engulfing him in its scent. Walking into the warm, cozy room, Albus passed dozens of high bookshelves, ignoring tomes on transfiguration and alchemy, walking directly to the main desk to claim his book.

Albus stood at the front desk, rather impatiently, waiting for old Barnaby to come up to bring him his book. Barnaby was an elderly wizard, nearing one hundred and thirty years old. He had short, sparse hair that stuck up at odd angles. He was short, and doubled over with extreme age. Thin and withered as a small raisin, he was spry nonetheless and wise with the sort of intelligence that comes from years and years of life experience.

Catching sight of Albus from across the room, Barnaby bid a hasty goodbye to the customer he was talking to, and quickly crossed the room to greet Dumbledore.

"Why hello, Albus!" Barnaby said with a grin, coming toward him.

"Hello, Bertrand!" Albus said greeting Barnaby by his first name. "How are you?"

"I'm well, Albus, quite well. But I'm afraid to say that we have a little problem."

Albus's face immediately fell. "What's the problem?" Albus asked trying to reign in his emotions.

"Well, your book has yet to arrive." All of a sudden the air in the room began to get thick and incredibly, uncomfortably warm, raw power crackled in the air, as Albus tried to keep his annoyance in check.

Sensing the change in the climate, and knowing its cause, for the legend of Albus Dumbledore's temper and his raw physical power, and occasional lack of control of it, had already become legend, Barnaby began to wring his hand uncharacteristically and began to speak rather faster than he was wont to do "I've called Flourish and Blotts, but they don't seem to know what happened. "

Albus's power snapped and crackled in the air, barely contained. Barnaby pressed on, "Between you and me, they've hired some new people, just out off Hogwart's, not that there's anything wrong with the school," Barnaby hastily amended lest he should unintentionally further anger Albus by slighting his school, "they're just a little young to be running the place, unsupervised is all, in my opinion, but then again I still refuse to take on help in this place, even though I've got more clients than I can tend to…" Barnaby quickly ceased his rambling, not knowing what else to say. His viscous eyes were darting, and his wizened old hands wringing, as he awaited Albus's response.

The air cracked and snapped, it was thick with tension and anger, Albus stood stock still, silent and brooding. Barnaby seemed just about to fill the uncomfortable silence with infantile prattle, when Albus finally spoke, "May I use your floo?"

"What?" Barnaby asked, startled out of his reverie, "umm, yes, of course, go right ahead." Barnaby said, gesturing toward the grate.

As Albus stepped quickly over the threshold muttering 'Diagon Alley', Barnaby raised his hands as if in prayer, and crying out to no one in particular, said, "Merlin, help those poor boys at Flourish and Blotts!"

Arriving in Diagon Alley, Albus quickly crossed over to Flourish and Blott's, walking as if on wheels, he threw open the door and crashed into the store. Stalking toward the front desk, as a cat stalks its prey, Albus approached the two pimple-faced teens sitting at the desk.

The teens were startled from their perusal of several magazines of rather ill-repute, by Albus's outburst, as he marched through the doors, glaring at them all the while.

Summoning up all of his courage, the fatter of the two boys, addressed his ex-professor, "Why, Professor Dumbledore, what a pleasure!" He nearly choked on his words, seeing the expression on Dumbledore's face, but he soldiered on, "What brings you to our humble bookstore?"

"Kindly stop your driveling, Mr. Potts. Where is my book?" Thundered Dumbledore.

"What book?" Asked the other boy, feigning ignorance.

"The book that Barnaby ordered for me, Mr. Lewis. It's called Chess for Champions, and was published in the 1800s in muggle Germany. It was supposed to be delivered today, but Barnaby said that it never arrived. Care to explain why?"

The boys cowered under Dumbledore's intense gaze, both remembering many a detention that they had served with him. Feeling Dumbledore's raw power crackling through the air, the boys began to stammer, their eyes shifting under the scrutiny of his gaze, they looked to one another and then reacted simultaneously.

"He did it." Each said, pointing at one another.

"No, I didn't you did." Said Lewis.

"Don't lie, Phil. You're the one who gave the book to that bitty who came in." Said Potts.

"How was I supposed to know it was Dumbledore's book? You never told me."

"If you hadn't been so busy looking at that lady's…"

"That's enough, gentlemen!" Dumbledore said, rubbing his temples wearily with his fingers. "Find me another copy of the book by the end of the week, and I won't insist that your bosses fire you. " Dumbledore starred down both boys. "I'm an old fan of both Flourish and Blott, don't doubt that I can have you out of here faster than you can say lemon drop!"

"What?" asked Potts, looking confused.

"Don't ask, idiot!" snapped Lewis.

Dumbledore turned on his heels and strode toward the doorway, his robes billowing menacingly about him.

Turning, an idea forming in his head, he asked suddenly, "Who was the girl?"

"What girl?" They boys asked in unison.

Dumbledore rubbed his temple, mimicking his earlier actions, he was so very glad that these two had graduated, "The girl that you sold my book to. I believe that you referred to the young woman as a bitty, Mr. Potts. One that Mr. Lewis was apparently quite impressed with."

"Oh, that girl…" said Lewis.

Dumbledore nodded.

"We don't know." said Potts. "I don't remember her giving her name."

'Incompetent imbeciles!' Dumbledore muttered, turning back toward the door. "It's no matter…"

Suddenly an idea struck Mr. Potts, "Wait!" He shouted, ignoring the glare from Mr. Lewis. "I could look her up in the book."

Dumbledore sighed, at least one of them had some sense.

Turning, Dumbledore, loomed over the two boys as they pulled out an old tome, and began to leaf through the pages.

"Ah, here she is," said Mr. Potts with a grin. "McGonagall. Minerva McGonagall."

"Damn!" Dumbledore swore, the air crackling as he smashed his hand on the desk and then swooped out the door.

The two perplexed boys were left dazed by their encounter, staring weakly at one another.

"What the bloody hell do you suppose that was about?" Asked Lewis.

"I don't think we want to know," replied Potts.

They nodded at one another in agreement, and picked up their discarded magazine.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I just wanted to thank my reviewers for reviewing my story. I am a huge fan of many of you, and I really respect your work. I just wanted to thank you all for your reviews. I was actually terrified when I started my story boards for this story that you would hate the way I'm writing Albus, but I'm trying to write the Albus that Rowling showed us glimpses of in the 6th and 7th books, and not the calm, wise, older Albus. I've taken Rowling's description of Albus as an arrogant youth, who wanted an equal, as a catalyst for this story. I don't think he's gay, I think he was just looking for his equal and didn't meet 'him' until he met Minerva.

Chapter 5: Acceptance

Click, click, click, Albus's steps fell heavy on the wooden foor of his study, click, click, click. Nothing, it had been months, and he couldn't find any information on this McGonagall. It was December and nothing, nothing.

Click, click, click…everyone he had talked to loved this woman. He had talked to Alastor, talked to Horace, talked to Armando. They all loved her. Ogg had only good memories of her. The only person Dumbledore had found who hadn't been totally charmed by Miss McGonagall, was Madame Cassiopeia Cartwright, the Divination teacher at the school. Apparently Divination had not been Miss McGonagall's favorite subject in school, but was compelled to take the class by her mother, Albus had weasled this information out of Horace one night over a nightcap. Upon speaking with Cassiopeia, however, Albus had discovered that despite Miss McGonagall's pronounced and profound hatred for Divination, she had still received an Outstanding in the class…Nothing, her worst was better than most people's best…nothing, click, click, click. Months and he couldn't find any flaw…no imperfection.

His background checks of her brothers had proved futile. Mercury was three years older than Minerva as Alastor had said in his letter and he currently lived in Germany with his wife Ingrid, who was a squib. Mercury was a specialist in Arithmancy, and spent most of his time doing research and writing articles. Mars was, as Alastor had said, a reformed screw-up. He was Minerva's twin and he was as reckless as she was careful, as bold as she was clever. He was an auror who worked with Alastor, and other than his having a reputation as a bit of a ladies' man, Albus could find no fault with him.

He had looked up the grandparents, William and Vivian McGongall, they had died 2 years earlier within twenty-four hours of one another, apparently they were one of those couples who couldn't live without one another, and who both died of natural causes on the same day. "How sweet!" Albus thought sinisterly. Although Albus did not doubt that there were some couples so in love, so perfect for one another, they could not be apart, Albus was certain that he would never find that sort of love. He had no doubt that Pernelle and Nicholas would one day be that sort of a couple, no doubt that true love did exist. It was what made the earth go round, it was the one thing worth living for, worth fighting for, and yet Dumbledore was certain that he would never find that sort of love, and it was a sobering thought. So, the grandparents had checked out, and then Albus had turned to investigating the circumstances of the father's death, normal, he had been killed while working on location, in a freak accident, as Alastor had said.

He had even investigated the mother, Diana, she was indeed the daughter of the French Minister for Magic, and she had indeed returned to France and married a man named Vesper after her husband's death. They had a daughter, Venus, who attended Beauxbatons.

Suddenly, Albus stopped pacing, he had an idea, he hadn't wanted it to come to this, but perhaps it was necessary, perhaps it was time to pay Minerva's little sister a visit. What was it Alastor had said, she was as unlike Minerva as the night is like the sun? Perhaps his answer lay with her.

Throwing a handful of floo powder into the fireplace, Albus called out 'Beauxbatons!' and stepped into the floo to see his old friend Madame Clarisse Piaf, the headmistress of the school, and catch a glimpse of the allusive young witch, Venus Vesper.

Albus walked through the school and into an oval office decorated in white marble. The room shone in the early afternoon sunlight. The sun cascaded through the window and filled every nook and cranny of the room with its gleaming rays. Albus had to squint to be able to see.

Upon hearing the distinct clip-clop of heels on marble, Albus turned abruptly, and came face to face, or as near as possible given the circumstances, with a diminutive witch. Clarisse Piaf stood in front of Albus, clad in a short set of long-sleeved, well-tailored black robes, her short black hair artfully tousled, a cigarette in her hand, red lipstick lightly smudged across her lips.

She surveyed him coolly, over the bridge of her nose, as if she were looking down at him, when in actuality she was at least a foot shorter than him, before throwing out her arms in an odd sort of embrace, and kissing him on each cheek.

"Why, Dumbly-dorr, zis is a pleasure…" She purred with a smile. "Vat brings you to Beauxbatons?"

Albus smiled a bit sheepishly, "Well, Clarisse," he began slowly, "I have this friend, who went to Hogwarts, and her sister goes to school here, and I have heard that the two sisters are totally dissimilar, and I've always been curious to meet this young girl…" Albus finished, a bit lamely. Merlin help him, he hadn't really thought this out.!

"Zis friend of yours, she is a lady?" asked Clarisse, raising a carefully coiffed eyebrow.

"Yes," Albus said, "and I haven't met her family, and I've heard so much about her sister."

"Ah, l'amour, l'amour, toujours l'amour!" Clarisse said with a knowing smile. 'If only she knew…' Albus thought with a wry smile. "Tell me, Dumbly-dorr, who is zis girl?"

"Venus Vesper…" Albus said slowly.

"Minerva McGonagall's zister?" Clarisse asked slowly… "Yes, I suppose zat makes sense." She said more to herself than to Albus. 'What did that mean?' He wondered…

"It is such a shame zat you missed Minerva." Clarisse said.

'Damn!" Dumbledore swore internally, she was here!

"She used to live in Paris!" Clarisse continued, not noticing Albus's discomfort, "But now she is in England, as I am sure you know."

Albus nodded, Clarisse had a way of making him feel as if he were on trial, as if her eyes were always searching, "She's studying with a friend of mine, Nicholas Flammel." 'Thank god for research!' Albus thought with an internal sigh.

"Ah, yes, so she said, she has not been here in many months. Poor Venus misses her terribly. Ze did not spend much time together ven ze vere younger, and Minerva vas at Hogwart's, but ven Minerva vas studying in Paris, she vas always visiting her zister." Clarisse trailed off, as if lost in thought, "Minerva is a good woman…" Clarisse said, narrowing her eyes at Albus.

He nodded hastily, trying to keep Clarisse from discerning the fact that he had misled her, the fact that he had never actually set eyes on Minerva McGonagall.

Clarisse turned, seemingly appeased, "She speaks French fluently, you know?" 'Of course,' Albus thought sarcastically, 'she probably speaks Tagalong fluently too…Is there nothing wrong with this woman?' He groaned inwardly. "Her grandfather vas ze French Minister for Magic some years ago, e's retired now, and living on a muggle vineyard…retired from public life."

"Yes," Albus said, "Minerva told me." He lied through his teeth.

"Venus vill be at lunch now, I should be going to join them, vould you like to join me, Dumbly-dorr?" Clarisse asked, extending her arm to Albus.

"Certainly," Albus said quickly, taking Clarisse's arm and letting her lead him out of the office.

Clarisse led Albus to a large room, easily larger than the Great Hall, and far more ornately decorated. The dining hall was made of white marble, reflecting the light from the many windows throughout the room. The tables and chairs were made of ice, with white fur wraps slung over the seats and the backs. Light, carefree snowflakes flitted from the ceiling, falling on the students as they ate their lunch.

During lunch Clarisse introduced Albus to all of the professors at Beauxbatons. She explained that he was a visiting dignitary from Hogwart's, a Transfiguration professor there, and that he was an old friend of hers.

After lunch, Clarisse tapped Albus on the shoulder, gesturing to a young woman, who looked to be in the final year, who was getting up from her chair.

Albus did not need to be told that this was Minerva's sister, and suddenly Alastor's words made complete sense to Albus. This young woman was beautiful. She had long, stick-straight blonde hair that fell midway down her back, and bright, shining blue eyes. Her skin was so pale that it almost seemed to be translucent. Her whole aura was alive with light. She was lovely.

'That was it!" Albus thought, snapping his fingers and jumping out of his chair. Bidding a hasty goodbye, he fled from the room, and walked out onto the ground, apparating immediately to Hogsmeade…he'd discovered it!

The wind blew around him as he walked up the path toward the castle, but he didn't feel it. It howled and hissed, lifting his robes, and making them swirl about him, and yet he walked on as if it were spring and he were taking a stroll along the Seine. He had found Minerva's secret, her imperfection. Minerva McGonagall was ugly. That had to be it. Alastor had said that her sister was like the sun and Minerva was like the moon. Was not the moon but a pale reflection of the sun? Opposites, Alastor had said, and so, it stood to reason that since her sister was beautiful, Minerva was ugly. Albus wasn't sure why, but that simple knowledge made him glad. He supposed it was what the Germans called schadenfreude…delighting in someone else's misfortune. Albus didn't care…it felt good to know that he was right. No one could be that perfect! Minerva had a flaw…a little thing really. Ha! She was ugly!

The moment that Albus entered the gates of Hogwart's he beat a quick path up to the castle and into the safety of his own office. He had a letter to write! Now that he knew Minerva's secret, he couldn't wait to see her.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Meeting Minerva

Albus swung his heavy, woolen cloak around his shoulders, surveying his image one last time in the mirror. Albus had decided to wear a fine set of dark blue dress robes for his dinner with the Flammels. His hair was auburn and reached just past his ears and he had a rather scruffy auburn beard. Albus had stopped cutting his hair or shaving when he took his job at Hogwart's. He had every intention of eventually being a kooky old wizard with hair to his belt buckle and a beard like Merlin's.

Pleased with what he saw in the mirror, Albus walked out of his office, out of the castle, out of the gates and toward the apparation spot just off the Hogwart's grounds.

When he arrived in London, it was already dark. The cold night air nipped at Albus's heels as he walked toward the Flammel's flat. The bright, stars hung in the sky as if suspended from a crane, crisp and clear against the cold black sky. The moon shone brightly, casting its glow on the quaint street, illuminating the houses, and trees, everything in its wake. In that moment the moon reminded Albus of a goddess, cold and distant, hovering just out of reach, bright and beautiful. Breaking out of his reverie, Albus shook his head. The moon, he reminded himself, was but a pale reflection of the sun's beauty.

As Albus approached the door of the Flammel's flat, he stopped before knocking, steeling himself by taking a deep breathe. He was finally going to meet this McGonagall, this woman who had consumed his thoughts so much of late.

Raising his hand slightly, Albus knocked quickly on the large Mahogany door.

The door opened…"Damn!" Albus swore loudly, spinning around and stomping his foot on the ground as he slammed his fist into his thigh.

"Are you alright?" Asked the woman in the doorway, a slight Scottish brogue barely detectable as she spoke.

Albus shook his head, turning around again, he surveyed the woman in front of him. She was tall, very tall, only slightly shorter than Albus himself, and thin and angular. She wore a short, long-sleeved green dress that did nothing to hide the woman's womanly figure. Her skin was pale and luminescent as the moon's light. It almost seemed to be tinged blue. Her lips, however, were as red as a rose. Her hair was blacker than night, luminous, dark and thick, falling in large waves, it cascaded down past her back. Her complexion reminded him of a muggle story…Snow White. She was a woman with black hair, pale skin and lips red as a rose. Of all Minerva's features, however, easily the most disarming were her eyes. Albus found himself immediately trapped in them. They were grey, dark, piercing grey, like steel traps.

Her eyes flashed menacingly as she surveyed Albus, reminding him very much of her namesake, "Mr. Dumbledore I presume?" Albus nodded dumbly in response, amazed by the sight of the woman in front of him, disarmed by her beauty, disheartened by the fact that she was beautiful. What flaw would he be able to find now? His last hope had come crashing down on him. "Are you going to come in? Or are you going to stand there gawking at me all night? It is rather cold…" She bit out coolly.

Shaking himself out of his daze, Albus recovered his manners enough to hold his hand out to her. "I'm sorry, please excuse me. Albus Dumbledore, you must be Minerva McGonagall."

She smiled slightly, her steel grey eyes still surveying his form, as she gracefully accepted his hand, "Yes, I must be. Do come in! Nicholas and Pernelle are in the kitchen."

Removing her hand from his grasp, and stepping aside, she motioned for him to come inside.

Albus remained stubbornly rooted to his spot, rude was one thing Albus Dumbledore was not, and he motioned for Minerva to precede him into the house.

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Minerva turned and walked briskly into the house and toward the kitchen. 'What an attitude!' Albus thought to himself, as he followed her, trying desperately to ignore the smell of heather wafting from her swaying hair and the metronome like motion of her hips.

"Albus, my dear boy!" Nicholas bellowed as Albus walked into the kitchen.

"How are you, Nick?" Albus asked, clapping his old friend into a tight embrace.

"Don't just ignore me, because I'm stooped over the stove, slaving away to make your dinner…" Pernelle said slapping Albus playfully with a dishrag, a smile on her lips and a wink in her eye.

"Ah, I could never ignore you Pernelle!" Albus said, leaning down to give her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"I see you've met Minerva." Nicholas said, gesturing toward Minerva who was still standing in the doorway, surveying the scene with a distant air.

"Indeed, I have." Albus said, glancing at the devastatingly lovely woman by the door.

"Mr. Dumbledore was quite eloquent," Minerva said with a smirk, and a knowing glance in his direction, an eyebrow carefully raised, begging him to argue with her.

"Ah, I see…" Nicholas muttered, quite perplexed, feeling as if he'd missed something, or been left out of a joke.

Ever the consummate hostess, sensing the tension in the room, Pernelle said; "Well, since we're all here, how about we get this dinner underway?" With that she strode out of the room, a parade of dishes and plates following in her wake. Albus, Minerva and Nicholas followed suit.

Pernelle and Nicholas lived in a two-story flat on the west end of London, their house was dark, crowded with books, overstuffed with furniture, their kitchen was a galley kitchen decorated in dark green plaids, their dining room was next door, separated from the kitchen by a half wall. A large table sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by an elegant chair rail, and cabinets lining the walls encasing all of Pernelle's china and her collection of tea cups from around the world. Candles lined the wall and floated overhead in a chandelier, giving the room a warm, romantic feel. The table was set with a simple white tablecloth and beautiful green glass plates. Several piping hot dishes of food sat on the table. It smelled wonderful.

Nicholas and Pernelle sat down opposite one another at the heads of the table. This left Albus sitting across from Minerva, and Albus, remembering his manners, and trying to make up for the terrible impression that he must have made on Minerva earlier in the night, pulled out her chair for her. Minerva looked at him, annoyance written all over her features, and for a moment Albus feared that she would let her feminist sensibilities win out, and hex him, but she seemed to think better or it, and thanked him courteously before sitting down.

Dinner was uneventful, and seemed to pass by much too quickly, Albus talked to Nicholas and Minerva about transfiguration and alchemy. Minerva had a prickly personality, and her tongue was as sharp as any blade Albus had ever met, and would decapitate you just as quickly. She spoke and carried herself with a self- confident arrogance and poise that was unusual in a woman. Albus found himself enjoying her conversation immensely. Her intelligence was astounding, and her ability to converse easily nearly rendered Albus transfixed. They had discussed Minerva's latest work, although she seemed loathe to discuss the minutiae, and they had discussed her article in Transfiguration Today. It was obvious that Nicholas was very proud of his young protégé and Albus felt a twinge of jealousy shoot down his spine as Nicholas patted Minerva's hand, while he assured Albus that her latest article would not be her last, and that she had far bigger things up her sleeves.

Despite the friendly atmosphere at dinner, the air in the room was not totally relaxed. Albus still had bones to pick with this Miss McGonagall. He was still determined to find her flaw. Determined to prove that no human being witch or muggle could be so very perfect. Minerva, for her part, also seemed a bit ill at ease around Dumbledore. She eyed him throughout the meal, as a cat eyes its prey, watching him endlessly, her steel grey eyes seemed to bore into his brain. It unnerved Albus to no end. She obviously didn't trust easily. Her muscles even seemed tense, as if, at any given moment, she would spring up from the chair and draw her wand. Dumbledore assumed that it must have been her training as an auror that made her seem so on guard and intense, and yet even he could not deny that he had felt the woman's magical signature the moment she opened the door. She was powerful. Powerful beyond any witch Albus had ever met. It was a shame that she had left the Ministry, Dumbledore would have shuddered to encounter her in a dark alley. Those probing steel grey eyes were enough to put anyone on guard.

As dinner ended, and Albus licked up the last of his lemon pudding, he stood, hugging Pernelle and kissing her on the cheek as he thanked her for the wonderful dinner. Nicholas he clapped on the back, promising to write more often and visit again as soon as possible. As Nicholas and Minerva walked Albus to the door, Albus's foot went out from under him and he nearly fell, luckily for him Miss McGonagall's reflexes were as fast as he'd presumed, and she caught him up under the arm, and righted him immediately.

Looking down to inspect what had caused his stumble, Albus chuckled as he saw a small stuffed mouse. Smiling, Albus picked up the mouse, "Nicholas, my old friend, when did you and Pernelle get a cat?"

Nicholas immediately began to laugh, and, although Albus was unsure why, he saw Miss McGonagall's cheeks turn a brilliant shade of rose.

Taking the mouse from Dumbledore, Nicholas said with a jolly laugh, "We don't have a cat. That's Minerva's mouse!"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrow, turning to face Miss McGonagall, he said; "Your mouse, Miss McGonagall?"

In response a second blush began to creep up from beneath the neckline of Minerva's dress. And yet, despite her obvious embarrassment, her eyes did not leave his.

"Minerva's an animagus." Nicholas supplied, sensing the tension between the two.

Minerva nodded in response. "A cat." Nicholas continued, "Hence the catnip mouse." Nicholas began to laugh again, and Minerva blushed a slightly deeper shade of crimson.

Albus smiled, his eyes never leaving McGonagall's grey ones, "I should very much like to see you transform…"

Minerva smiled, and with nary a moment's hesitation, in her place stood a small grey tabby cat.

Before Albus had time to blink, the cat was gone, and the woman stood in its place.

Albus smiled, a million questions forming in his mind, none of which he chose to voice at the current moment, "Miss McGonagall, I must say your animagus form suits you uncommonly well."

Minerva smiled, a slight, soft smile that lit up her face, "Professor Dumbledore, please call me Minerva."

"Only if you'll do me the pleasure of calling me Albus." He said with a wink.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you again for all of your reviews! I am a huge fan of all of your work and I am humbled that you have taken the time to review this story.

Chapter 7: An Unexpected Visitor

It was the night before Christmas and all through Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry not a sound could be heard… The snow fell lightly through the air, adding a layer to the already thick blanket of snow on the ground, muffling the sounds of passers-by, and casting a soporific haze over the world. Inside the castle, the students were nestled snugly in their beds, anxiously awaiting the next morning. In the Headmaster's chamber, Armando Dippet and Horace Slughorn were raucously imbibing a yuletide nightcap. In the Transfiguration Professor's chambers, however, the mood was considerably more somber. Dumbledore had always loved Christmas. The carolers, the snow, the feeling of peace and contentment, drinking hot cocoa by the fire, decorating Christmas trees, opening presents on Christmas morning, time spent with family and friends…family and friends, two things Albus had few of these days. He sighed. Perhaps that was the difference, when he was young, Albus had been happy and cheerful, as he aged, however, he became jaded, surly, and much less carefree…the worries of the outside world began to weigh heavily on his mind. Death…immortality…good…evil…His mother was gone, his sister dead, his friendship with Gellert had imploded, his brother estranged, he had no one, and Christmas had somehow lost its magic. And so, after dinner in the Great Hall, Dumbledore had plodded up to his room, donned his nightwear, and set in for a long night reading beside the fire, sipping hot cocoa, perhaps then, he thought sadly, it would feel a bit more like Christmas Eve.

The snow fell softly outside, Fawkes curled into a ball on his perch, his head resting under his wing, settling in for the night, and Dumbledore, clad in a blue dressing gown with large silver shooting stars on it, sat in an armchair by the fire, drinking hot chocolate, and staring at the flames. The candles burned dimly in the dark room, and Albus opened his book, A Christmas Carol, turning slowly to the first page…"Marley was dead to begin with…" He read aloud, when suddenly a rapping at the door startled him from his reading, and roused Fawkes from his sleep. Lifting his head, eyes bleary with sleep, Fawkes looked to his Master as if to say 'Who in the name of Merlin is calling at this hour?' Dumbledore shook his head, laughing slightly, he really had hit bottom; he was having an imaginary conversation with his familiar. That had to be the height of loneliness! Albus shut the book, setting it carefully on a small table by the fire; he stood, adjusting his dressing gown, as he made his way to the door. Reaching for the handle, and opening the large mahogany door, Dumbledore was shocked when he came face to face with a set of unnerving grey eyes.

"Minerva!" He said shocked, he had been expecting Horace or Armando, "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" He asked, a genuine smile on his face.

Minerva smiled, pushing the hood of her heavy green tartan cloak off of her head, and shaking out her hair as she did so, "I hope I'm not disturbing anything…" Minerva said, grinning, "Although by the looks of things, it seems I might have disturbed your sleep…I can go if you're busy."

"No, no," Albus said, chuckling, "It's much too early for me to be asleep, I was just reading by the fire…Please, please come in." Albus said, gesturing for Minerva to enter his sitting room.

Minerva slowly removed her gloves, handing them to Albus, and then unbuttoned her cloak, handing it to him as well. After disposing of her cloak and gloves, Albus conjured a squashy armchair across from his own and gestured for Minerva to have a seat.

Albus grinned, "I was just having a cup of hot cocoa…would you like one?"

Minerva smiled, shaking her head slightly, "I find cocoa to be a bit sweet…do you have any tea?"

Albus snapped his fingers and a small, green elf appeared wearing a tea towel around his waist and carrying a tea service.

"Whispy is at your service, Professor. Here's some tea for the Professor's, um, friend." Minerva laughed and rolled her eyes, as the elf put the tea down on the table, a slight blush creeping up over Albus's auburn beard.

"Thank you, Whispy." Albus said, addressing the small elf, bowing his head slightly. "That will be all."

As the little elf raised his hands, about to snap his fingers, Albus cut in "Happy Christmas, Whispy!" The little elf smiled grandly, before snapping his fingers and popping away to the kitchen.

Minerva smiled at Albus over the top of her teacup, her steel grey eyes seeming to laugh at him.

"What?" Albus asked with a grin.

"Nothing, " Minerva said, bringing the cup down to rest on its saucer, a devilish grin curling upon her lips, "I was just suddenly feeling very overdressed."

Albus chuckled, glancing down at his attire, and comparing it with Minerva's long, red dress. "I can go change." Albus offered, with a grin.

"No, no" Minerva said, holding up her hands, and shaking her head, "I'm the one who dropped in totally un-announced late at night on Christmas Eve. " Minerva said with a grin of her own, "Unfortunately, I was unaware that I was coming to a pajama party."

At this Albus began to laugh heartily, and Minerva joined him, her light, soft laugh ringing through the air, and surprising him with its sweetness.

"So, Minerva," Albus said, after catching his breathe, "Truly, to what do I owe the honor of your company?"

Minerva smiled, holding out her hand, palm up, suddenly a green tartan package appeared in her hand. "I wanted to bring you your Christmas present." Minerva said, her smile seeming to light up the room.

Albus was flabbergasted, he could barely speak, "A present?" Albus asked stupidly, "But, I didn't get you anything."

Minerva grinned, shaking her head, and leaning forward, pressing the package into Albus's hand. "It's not much." She said with a faint blush, rolling her eyes in a decidedly feminine fashion. "Just a little something." Again her face changed, another devilish smile playing at her lips, a hint of mischief hiding in her heather eyes. "After all, what kind of witch would I be if I didn't get my boyfriend a Christmas present?"

Albus nearly choked on his cocoa, staring at the witch in front of him, shock written on his features.

The side of Minerva's lip quirked upward. "I received a letter from Madame Piaf a few days ago…" Minerva set down her teacup gently, her steely eyes regarding him carefully.

Albus began to shift slightly in his seat, looking to all the world like a errant schoolchild. He glanced at the package in his hand, regarding it as if it might explode at any given moment. "I…I…"Albus began dumbly.

"Shhh…" Minerva said, holding up her hand, and quieting him. "I investigated you too." She said with a laugh.

"What?" Albus asked with a grin.

"You graduated from Hogwarts twenty years ago. You were the greatest student the school had seen up to that time. Prefect, Head Boy, Seeker, you were an ace at Transfigurations and Charms. You received scores on your OWLS and NEWTS that were unheard of, and unmatched until my own tenure at the school…" She paused here for a smirk, looking for all the world like the cat that caught the canary, "as Mrs. Marchbanks once reported 'You did things with a wand that she'd never seen before'…I'd sure like to know what that means," she said with a wicked smile, arching an eyebrow elegantly, "after graduating, you spent some time traveling, and doing 'independent research', you then began working with Nicholas Flammel, with whom you discovered the 12 uses of dragon's blood. You then began working at Hogwarts as the school's Transfiguration master. You are one of the most-respected experts in the field of Transfiguration, you often publish reviews in Transfiguration Today, although you seldom publish your own articles anymore. You have an incurable sweet tooth, you love music, ten-pin bowling, and chess…a passion I share…despite your many admirable qualities, you are, however, known to be arrogant and short-tempered. You are also known for your slightly garish fashion sense…" Minerva finished with a grin. "Very impressive, if I do say so."

Albus smiled, "What about you? Graduated Hogwarts five years ago, Prefect, Head Girl, Chaser, beat my scores on your OWLS and NEWTS, after graduating you became an auror in an unprecedented year and a half. You served as an auror for nearly two years, before going to the famous Academie De La Metamorphosis in Paris to attain your mastery in Transfiguration. You were the first witch published in Transfiguration Today, and you are a tabby cat animagus. They youngest registered animagus on the books." Albus finished with a smile, "and apparently you have absolutely no flaws."

Minerva laughed, "Oh my, I don't know who you've been talking to, but I certainly have flaws."

"Really," Dumbledore said with a laugh, "Well, that does make me feel a bit better about myself."

"I'm glad I could be of use." Minerva said seriously, "Now open your present."

"Okay, okay," Albus said holding up his hands, and then slowly beginning to pry the paper away from the small package in his lap.

As the paper fell away from the present, Albus looked up, dumbfounded, as he held the small, soft bundle in his hands.

Minerva winced nervously, "If you don't like them, you don't have to keep them…I thought about getting you a book, but it seemed so impersonal, so obvious, and it is so cold at Hogwarts during the winter…"

A huge smile broke out across Albus's face. "Oh, Minerva, I love them…they're perfect!"

Albus held up a pair of lime green woolen socks with bright golden shiny stars on them. "Did you make them?"

Minerva nodded, smiling, glad that he liked his present.

Albus was touched. No one had ever taken the time to actually make him a present before. This was shaping up to be a rather pleasant Christmas Eve…

"Minerva," Albus said after a slight pause, trying to make up his mind, "Would you like a nightcap?"

Minerva nodded slightly, "I have a bottle of bourbon that Horace gave me for my birthday. I've been meaning to finish it…" Albus said, as he stood, walking to the liquor cabinet and pouring two glasses.

"Why, I'm beginning to like Professor Slughorn better everyday…" Minerva said with a laugh, another light airy laugh that seemed to float up to the ceiling.

"Chess?" Albus asked.

"Love to." Minerva replied.

It was much later that night when Albus led Minerva to the door, bidding her a goodnight, "Thank you for stopping by, Minerva." Albus said with a smile.

"It was my pleasure, Albus." Minerva said, glancing upward, "Wait!" she said, grasping his shoulder slightly, and pointing at the ceiling, "Look! We're under the Mistletoe."

Albus squirmed slightly, unsure of what he should do, when Minerva quickly and expertly leaned forward, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Goodnight, Albus. Happy Christmas!" And with that, she was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Happy New Year's!

Albus grumbled lowly, regarding his image in the mirror, and tugging on the collar of his navy blue dress robes. How he hated Ministry parties! And this was the worst of all! The annual Ministry New Year's Ball. Albus was always invited…every year, and yet he usually found some excuse to avoid going, but this year, oh this year! Armando and Horace had talked him into going. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, oh now! Now it was obvious that it had been a mistake. Albus Dumbledore hated balls! 'Ugh!' He groaned, surveying his appearance again, Horace and Armando would be arriving any moment.

There was a knock at the door, Albus sighed inwardly, trudging over to the door, he opened it to see Horace and Armando both in garish velvet dress robes, standing outside of his door. Again Dumbledore sighed inwardly and rolled his eyes.

"Well, let's get this over with…" He said, pushing past the two men and stepping into the hallway.

They entered the ballroom at the Ministry. The floor glistened with a layer of newly fallen snow. The ice walls shone in the candlelight. Icicles hung from the ceiling, snow falling lightly onto the crystal clear floor. The room was enchanting, a glittering ball hovering in the center of the room, waiting to drop at midnight. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night's sky, dark blue, hazy and majestic.

Dumbledore was still admiring the beauty of his surroundings, when he realized that his friends had abandoned him, heading like scent hounds for the open bar. Albus shook his head, those two would never learn. He shrugged and looked down at his feet, his hands plunging into his robes, he looked up, scanning the room for people he knew. On the dance floor, couples were spinning wildly to the sounds of an orchestra stationed on a stage at the back of the room. Continuing to peruse the room, Dumbledore saw many well-dressed people conversing at low tables over drinks. He saw couples standing in the corners, talking quietly to one another.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dumbledore caught sight of Pernelle and Nicholas sitting at a small table, talking quietly to one another. Albus made his way across the room, beating a quick path to his old friends.

"Albus!" Nicholas said, catching sight of him, and standing up.

"Hi, Nick!" Albus said, clapping him on the back. "Hello, Pernelle!" He said, leaning down and pecking her gently on the cheek.

"You don't usually come to these things." Nicholas said, grinning, "What brings you here?"

Albus chuckled slightly, "I came with Armando and Horace…they were rather insistent. Unfortunately, they caught sight of the bar, and headed off in that direction, leaving me alone." Albus said with a shrug and a laugh.

"Horace does have a bit of a fondness for the Brandy doesn't he!" Pernelle said with a wink and a smile.

"Where's that apprentice of yours Nick? Gave her the night off did you?" Albus asked with a nudge.

"No actually," Nicholas answered. "She's here somewhere."

"Probably trying to fend off her legions of fans…" Pernelle added with a grin, catching Nicholas' eye.

"Fans?" Albus asked, confused.

"Oh, yes." Nicholas said, "That auror, what's his name…Grumpy or something like that…"

"Moody, dear." Pernelle cut in.

"Ah, that's it, Moody, he's been following her around all night."

Albus smiled to himself, shaking his head at the image of Moody pursuing Minerva. It was ludicrous!

"Speak of the devil!" Pernelle said, shifting her eyes and inclining her head slightly.

Albus and Nicholas both turned to see a very agitated looking Minerva gliding quickly toward their table, long, silver dress sliding over her frame as she moved, looking like liquid silver poured over her lithe frame. A few feet in her wake Alastor walked at a fast clip, trying to seem casual, but also obviously tailing her. He was obviously strained trying to keep up with her effortless fast clip.

"Albus!" Minerva said as she neared the group, throwing out her arms and pulling him into a tight hug. "Help!" She muttered quietly in his ear, so only he could hear.

Albus chuckled lightly against her ear. But before he was able to respond, Alastor clapped him on the back, having finally caught up with his quarry.

"What're you doing here? You never attend this sort of shindig…"

"Nor do you, Alastor…" Albus said artfully cocking an eyebrow, and trying not to smirk, as Alastor cleared his throat slightly, trying to cover his slight discomfort.

"Well, uh….you know." He finished lamely. Albus, Pernelle and Nicholas shared a knowing look.

"You know, Alastor, Minerva here was just telling me how much she loves to dance." Albus said with a wink and a grin, which he was totally unable to suppress.

Minerva shook her head violently, moving backwards slightly, gesticulating wildly with her hands…"No, no…" she began.

"No need to be modest, my dear…" Dumbledore finished, a devilish glint in his eye.

Minerva's mouth pursed tightly into a very thin line, her eyes flashing ominously.

"Why don't you take her for a spin, Alastor?" Albus asked, trying not to laugh.

"Alright, how bout it, Min?" Alastor asked, grabbing the resistant witch by the arm and pulling her toward the floor.

Minerva glared over her shoulder at Albus, mouthing the word 'dead,' as her grey eyes flashed.

A few minutes later Alastor was competently leading Minerva through a waltz, much to the witch in question's disgust, if the look on her face was anything to go by. As the dance ended, Albus, Pernelle and Nicholas watched, as the beginnings a big band hit began to play, and Minerva unsuccessfully tried to escape from Alastor's grasp, only to be roughly pulled back out onto the dance floor.

The sight of Alastor enthusiastically swing dancing around the ballroom, dragging Minerva with him, sent Albus, Pernelle and Nicholas into fits of laughter. They sat, sipping at glasses of wine, as Minerva was dragged by their table, Alastor kicking and jumping wildly, swinging her roughly around his body, her hair becoming mussed from the action. She looked a bit like a limp ragdoll at the end of his arm, flopping unenthusiastically, a frown planted on her face.

When the song finally came to an end, Albus had tears in his eyes, and he strongly suspected that Minerva did too, but for totally different reasons. Albus smiled, when Alastor loosened his grip on Minerva as the band prepared to strike up the next song.

"Why don't you go save the young woman?" Nicholas asked, nudging Albus gently in the ribs.

"Yes, do be a gentleman!" Pernelle encouraged.

Albus frowned, shaking his head slightly, until he heard the first cords of the next song…he knew it well. He stood, up, nodding his head to the couple as he made his way to the floor.

Albus laughed as he saw the other couples retreating from the dance floor. It was a rather obscure dance, Albus thought with a smirk. This band must have a very diverse taste in music!

Meanwhile, out on the dancefloor, Alastor looked at Minerva dejectedly "I've never heard this song."

Minerva smiled, "Apparently few have, look at all the couples leaving the floor…it's an Austrian folk dance," Minerva said, patting Alastor gently on the shoulder, "It's called the Laendler...this band has very diverse taste!" Just as Minerva was about to suggest that they leave the floor, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and spun around.

Albus Dumbledore was standing next to her, his bright blue eyes smiling into Minerva's deep grey ones. "Alastor, my boy, mind if I cut in?" Albus asked with a grin.

Alastor moved away from Minerva, and began to slowly retreat from the floor looking to all the world like a lost pup.

"Dance with me." Albus said, holding out his arms. Minerva grinned slipping her hands into his.

Albus and Minerva began to dance, and all the world began to fade away, as they glided across the floor. Smiles graced both their faces, as they flowed together like waves on the sea.

Unbeknownst to the couple on the floor they were being watched by nearly every member of the ballroom, including Horace and Armando, and Pernelle and Nicholas, who were shooting each other knowing glances, as the couple obliviously and effortlessly floated across the floor.

As the song ended, the room erupted in polite applause. Albus beamed, as a blush rose up onto Minerva's cheeks. Turning, hands still clasped they left the dance floor. Walking back to Pernelle and Nicholas' table from the floor, Albus asked Minerva, "Where did you learn to dance the Laendler?"

Minerva smiled, "My grandmother's Austrian. Marrying a foreigner was the 'in' thing to do then amongst politicians, I suppose." She said with a smirk. "What about you?"

"Oh, I spent some time in Austria a few years ago. Pernelle and Nick have a flat there."

"Oh," Minerva said, smiling slightly.

"You know, McGonagall, " he teased with a smirk, "you're not such a bad dancer when you're not flopping around like a fish."

"I suppose it helps," Minerva said, a wicked grin breaking out on her face, dropping her voice to a hushed whisper as they were nearing the table where Alastor, Horace and Armando were sitting with Pernelle and Nicholas, "that you didn't throw me around like a ragdoll."

Albus laughed heartily, smiling as her melodious laughter rang out in the air.

"Albus, my boy, I didn't know you could dance like that!" Horace said with a laugh.

"Neither did I." Alastor sulked a bit petulantly at which Armando, Nicholas and Pernelle laughed heartily.

"I see the time you spent with us in Innsbruck is paying off." Nick said, as Minerva and Albus slid into their chairs.

"Yes, quite." Albus said, grinning.

"But, tell me, Minerva, where did you learn to dance like that?" Asked Armando.

Minerva blushed deeply, and Alastor added, "Yes, I'd love to know how you knew that dance."

"Well, "Minerva began, uncomfortable at having everyone's attention on her, "My grandmother on my mother's side is Austrian."

"So what?" Asked Horace with a laugh.

"So," Minerva explained patiently, "the Laendler is an Austrian folkdance."

"Why didn't you and Nick come dance with us, Pernelle?" Albus asked.

"You two were quite stealing the show as it was. " Pernelle said.

"We wouldn't want to upstage you." Nicholas said, patting his wife's hand, as the group laughed uproariously.

Suddenly a deep voice behind Minerva said, "It was nice to see you finally found someone else to dance that godforsaken thing with you!"

Everyone turned, but before anyone even got the chance to respond, or get a good look at the man, Minerva was out of her chair like lightning, wrapping her arms around the man and nearly knocking him over as she embroiled him in a very uncharacteristic bear-hug.

"How you doing, sis?" He asked as she loosened her grip on him.

Albus smiled. Of course, her twin. They looked exactly alike. He had chin-length straight black hair, angular features, pale skin and was also about six feet tall. The one noticeable difference was that is eyes were bluer that Minerva's and much less alarmingly grey.

"I should be asking you that! Where've you been all night?" Minerva asked, shoving her twin in the shoulder. She frowned, as she saw a scantily clad blonde witch in a pink chiffon gown standing a few feet behind her brother. "Ah, I see you've been keeping busy." She said, nodding her head at the woman.

A blush moved up her brother's cheeks from his collar-line, but his eyes held a spark of fire as he regarded her, "As have you, sis. As have you." While shooting a glance at Dumbledore. Albus was wondering whether he should set the poor man straight, when Minerva abruptly turned, resting her hand on Albus's shoulder.

"Where are my manners? Everyone, this is my twin brother, Mars." Minerva said, gesturing to her brother. "Mars, this is Nicholas Flammel, my mentor, and his wife Pernelle." Mars shook hands with the couple gallantly. "This is Horace Slughorn, Potions Master at Hogwart's, Armando Dippet, Headmaster of Hogwart's, and this," Minerva said with a smile at Albus, "Is Albus Dumbledore, Master of Transfigurations, and an old friend of Nicholas's, poor man is totally besotted with me…" Minerva said, the group smiling, as Albus nearly choked on his wine, "just keeps asking me to marry him, won't take no for an answer, it's embarrassing really," Minerva added in a low, conspiratorial whisper, as her twin and the group began to laugh. Even Albus smiled, he deserved it for making her dance with Alastor. "You know Alastor." Minerva finished, casting a brief glance at him before turning toward her brother, a wide smile on her face. "Are'nt you going to introduce us to your friend?" She asked batting her eyelashes wildly.

He sighed, he could never deny Minerva anything, "Veronique, I have some people I'd like you to meet." He said, gesturing half-heartedly to the voluptuous French woman.

"'Allo," She said with a grin.

"Hello" the group responded.

"Everyone this is, Veronique LaSard. Have a seat, V." Mars said coolly.

"Well thank you for that wonderful introduction!" Minerva replied, laughing sarcastically.

The night passed jovially, the group of friends and acquaintances talking and laughing lightly. As midnight neared, nearly everyone in the room paired off. Pernelle and Nicholas headed home early to enjoy the night. Horace and Armando had picked up a set of Swedish medi-witches who spoke not a word of English, but who they were unsuccessfully trying to converse with at the bar. Mars had wandered off, and could now be seen in the corner romancing some elegantly dressed redhead. Alastor was talking about being an Auror, and Veronique was listening intently, Albus secretly believed that her interest in talking to Alastor probably had a great deal to do with her poor English-skills. He had shared this perspective with Minerva and she had laughed at his assessment and agreed with him, adding that it might also have something to do with the fact that her date had abandoned her on the pretense of going to get punch nearly a half an hour ago.

And so, after Veronique and Alastor had taken their conversation to a secluded balcony, Minerva and Albus were left alone as the hour struck midnight. As the couples surrounding them began to pull each other into embraces, Minerva leaned forward, pressing her lips soundly against Albus's for but a brief moment, as she pulled back, Albus looked a bit confused, he felt a tad dazed, as if his world were hazy, and yet oddly clear, clear for the first time. His head was spinning.

"What?" Minerva asked smiling in a way that Albus suddenly found very appealing, "It's tradition. Do you want to be alone all year?"

And for the first time in Dumbledore's long life, he didn't want to be alone. Not anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

What could possibly be wrong with him? Albus Dumbledore asked himself as he sat in front of his fire at 3 AM putting the finishing touches on his article for _Transfiguration Today. _He had given up writing years ago. He was too much of a perfectionist. The writer's block had nearly killed him. He had found it easier to critique someone else's work than to write his own. Now, he was writing like a fiend, at three o'clock in the morning. Yes, there was definitely something wrong with him Albus thought as he dropped his quill onto his lap with a flourish. He had completed his first article in nearly ten years. There was something wrong with him allright and her name was Minerva McGonagall.

She had captivated his mind, his body was confounded by her beauty, and, in the few short months that he had known her, she had changed his life. Just knowing that there was someone out there like Minerva…someone strong, brilliant, kind, sarcastic, challenging and beautiful, made him want to push himself harder to be a better person. He had settled so many years ago. He had painted himself into a lonely and isolated corner, thinking that he was the best, and knowing that no one, neither man nor woman, could match up to his intelligence and power. Then she came along like a breeze on a hot summer's day…and she changed his life.

Albus shook his head at his own silly, poetic thoughts, despising himself for them. He was alone. His quest for a partner had cost him his family. He knew that it was dangerous for him to want love. Dangerous for him to even consider it. And yet, Minerva was the only witch he'd ever really respected other than Pernelle, and there was no denying that she bore no resemblance to Gellert Grindenwald. She had made him long for love, for partnership. He had thought that the part of his heart that longed for those foolish things was long dead. 'Perhaps not?' Albus stated with a laugh, as he picked up his article, gazing longingly at it. Perhaps there was a chance for him yet. Perhaps he still had time to change.


	10. Chapter 10

With a pop Minerva McGonagall returned to her human form. Stretching out her long back with her customary feline grace, she began to try to work out her stiff muscles. Stretching her long arms over her head, her sensible black robes pulled more tightly to her body, stretching over her long, lean muscles. She was alone in the house and she had been working on a top-secret project, her second animagus transformation. If she managed this transformation, she would be the first witch or wizard in history to have more than one animagi form. She was already most of the way there. She knew that her second form was to be a large, horned grey owl with dark black spectacle markings around his eyes. She had managed the transformation roughly 30 times now, but she was having trouble holding the form for longer than 10 minutes and she had not yet attempted to fly. She was still getting used to having wings.

The project was one of the few things that she was able to keep entirely to herself. Minerva loved the Flammels, but she was a private person by nature, and she was unaccustomed to sharing her work and her life with anyone else. She had felt isolated for most of her life, and she was used to keeping to herself. It was hard to explain to others how you could be a loner and a twin simultaneously. Minerva loved her whole family, particularly Mars, and they were so close that they could communicate silently, but they both required space from one another in order to be seen as individuals, and in order for Mars to be seen as more than just a ladies' man or a reformed juvenile delinquent. So, she had lived alone in London and then in Paris, and now she was living with Nicholas and Pernelle while she was Nicholas' apprentice. She loved living there. The Flammels were so kind, and they spent almost all of their time together as a couple, and Nicholas was so helpful with her work, but her mastership was nearly complete…and she wanted to keep this second transformation to herself, at least until she could work out the kinks.

Minerva was still stretching, trying to work out the knots in her tired muscles, when a knock sounded at the door. Puzzled, Minerva stood upright and grimaced. She'd been looking forward to spending the afternoon alone while Pernelle and Nicholas were out, and to getting in some more work on her second transformation before they returned that evening. A visitor was simply not in the cards. She sighed and walked briskly to the door intending to make quick work of the visitor. As she opened the door, however, a smile lit up her face. Albus Dumbledore was standing on the doorstop with an armful of orchids. The flowers were beautiful, they were magical, they were charmed to shimmer and to change colors every few moments. Minerva stood there gawking at Albus, a smile on her face.

"Are you going to invite me in, Miss McGonagall?" Albus asked with a cheeky grin.

She nodded with a smile and led him inside toward the parlor. "Eloquent today aren't you?" Albus asked seriously.

'Ha! Ha!' Minerva responded sarcastically shoving him playfully, recovering from her shock at seeing Nicholas' friend, a man she had come to trust, standing on the doorstop carrying flowers. "Are those for Pernelle?" Minerva asked as she sat down on the couch, patting the spot next to her and gesturing for Albus to sit down.

"Certainly not, my dear Minerva." Albus said with a flourish, "They're for you."

"What's the occasion?" Minerva asked, accepting the flowers, and pressing her face against the blooms in a decidedly feminine way that sent Albus's blood tingling.

"I published an article today." Albus said with a grin.

Minerva looked up, shocked. "I thought you'd quote "retired from writing?"

"Well, what can I say? Your article got me thinking and made me want to write again."

"My dear, Professor Dumbledore." Minerva said, conjuring a vase, and banishing the flowers to the kitchen, "I think that is the best compliment I've ever been paid."

"I'm glad I could be of use, my dear." Albus said, reaching forward and touching her shoulder. The muscles in her shoulder jerked as his hand made contact with them. "My dear, whatever have you been doing? Your shoulders are so tense!"

Minerva smiled, "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

"Is that so? Well then, my dear, I suppose it would be better for you to kill me than my own curiosity."

"True. This would be murder. That would be suicide." She said seriously.

Smiling, Albus gently took her shoulders in his hands and turned her slightly, so she was sitting with her back toward him. "May I assist you?" He asked quietly, his hands hovering just above her shoulders. Minerva nodded. Oh if he only knew the many ways she wanted him to assist her.

As his hands slid gently over her shoulders, rubbing out the knots, the blood began to course through her veins, awakening sensations that she had never felt before. It felt wonderful, but she was terrified at the same time. Shifting slightly, Minerva broke Albus' contact with her shoulders and turned to him, her face flushed, "Lunch?"


End file.
